


Words to live by

by orphan_account



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Childhood, F/M, Fluff, Langst, M/M, Poetry, Why Did I Write This?, klance, klangst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-22 06:23:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11961555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: In Lance his class there is some sort of contest they do each day, you write a poem and if you get chosen your poem will be recognized by the whole school. Some anonymous writer beats lance every time. Lance is determined to find out who this person is.Keith and lance are childhood friends, until Keith isolated himself from the world and moved to another part of town, after 6 long years they meet again.





	Words to live by

**Author's Note:**

> This is a short chapter that I've written at 4am. I'm planning to update as soon as possible, but tomorrow school starts again soooo..
> 
> I'll try to make some art for this fic, but therefore I need to make a tumblr maybe. This is my first fic, so I hope you like it!
> 
> I humbly apologize for my language, English is not my native language (that's dutch) so I'm really sorry if there major typos.

“For this hour you’re going to write a poem. A poem that involves a color. It doesn't matter which one you pick just make sure it suits the context. If you don't know which color you should take, take your favorite.” School had started a month ago and this teacher loved competitions. Professor Plumm would write a subject on the blackboard and the class has to write about it. You could write anything that you want, at least if you know what you would want to write.

I looked around nervously, how should I know which color I should take for this assignment. What if I choose the wrong color? I don't even have a favourite color so that won't take me much further.

Everyone seemed to be writhing already. What color did they pick? And why did they choose that one? I stopped at one particular familiar face in the back of the class. I don't know why but it suddenly came to me, and I began to write everything down on paper. Before the things vanished from my mind.

~~~

“alright time's up. Everyone drop your pencil.” Professor Plumm announced. He started to walk around. He was like a predictor looking for his prey. No one liked reading their thoughts out loud for the whole class to hear, it's embarrassing. Not that he carried about that. Lance just knew he did this contest just so he could laugh at everyone.

The sound of wooden pencils dropping on desks around the room broke the silence, only to be replaced with muffled voices around me.

“lance, may I ask you to read your poem out loud for the whole class to hear.” I gulped, sure poems were always personal,this was no exception on the rule. But this one wasn't the most friendliest paragraphs I have written.

“uh.. I guess?” I said softly before standing up and walking over to the teacher his desk, ready to get humiliated. I felt like I had to throw up, my hands started to shake causing the paper to crease, knees that could let me fall at any time because they got weak. The eyes of every student in the room were directed to me, waiting for me to speak. 

I closed my eyes for a split second and cleared my throat. It would be easier if I just died on the spot.

“Red was the colour of your umbrella when you stood in the rain,  
Red was the colour of my face when I saw you laugh for the first time,  
It was the same colour that marked my back after our first night together.”

My voice gave up on me, every nerve of my body told be to just run, far away from this classroom. I wanted to do that, really did. I began to scan the room, looking for an exit I could use and out of habit I also met eyes with him. A small encouraging smile was painted on his face.

The anxiety that I felt only a minute ago began to fade, how can only one person do that? Everything was fine when I was with him. I only have to think about him, see him, he is the one I dedicate this poem to. For he who is the only reason why I’m still standing here.

I don't want to disappoint him. I looked down at the written words and took a deep breath before continuing.

“Red was the colour the wine we drank on our wedding,  
Red was the colour of the sidewalk on the day you didn't come home,  
So were my eyes from crying all night when I heard the news.”

“So I drew with silver on my wrist, letting red be the last colour I see before everything goes to black.”

The last paragraph wasn't written, just improvised. Without him in my life, I wouldn't stand here. The world would be gray and that is something I couldn't live with.

I let myself breath before looking up, I wasn't ready to face them after this. All I wanted was to go home and disappear in a blanket. Not a single word had been said since I finished. Only blank stares that burned holes through my skin. 

Then, out of nowhere I heard clapping. I dared to look up, searching for the source of the sound. That was when I found it. The guy in the back, the one guy that inspired me to pick a color, the one guy that encouraged me to keep speaking, was standing up and clapping in his hands. He didn't seem to care how people were staring at him like he lost it, he just looked at me with a small smile on his face. Not much later another few students began to clap.

Plumm reached out for me and placed his hand on my shoulder whispering. “great job.” then he turned back to the class.

“Now lance, why did you pick the color red?”

I didn't really know what to say, but just like when I was writhing, the words flew out. “it is a color that is associated with passion but also anger, every color has multiple meanings. You have the beautiful one and the darker one that nobody wants to see. The same is for people actually." I clamped my hand over my mouth, Iknew that I have said too much.

Again, silence. Only a few exchange of glares between students and a nod from the teacher. It made me feel aware of what I just said merely seconds ago.

I found myself smiling when I walked back to my desk. Of course there were people who thought I was crazy for writing that kind of stuff, but I didn't care any longer. It was personal so who gives a damn when some people don't like it? I liked it and the only other person who matters liked it too.

Other people had to read theirs. I noticed that most people picked blue as their color and always they would compare blue eye's with the ocean and almost every poems was about finding love, I was not an exception. The only thing that separated me from the rest was that mine took a dark turn. And why shouldn't I? Not every love story ends well.

After the fifth time of hearing that someone picked the color blue I zoomed out. Thinking about what he had written on that piece of paper in front of him. He never had to read his, he just waited until the room was empty before handing it over to the teacher. 

Words describe who you are, what you feel and because I never heard him using his voice in that kind of way, I couldn't figure him out.

The first day of school the teacher had asked him nicely to dictate his verse. He denied, leaving the whole class in awe, letting me wonder what was written on that white piece of paper. He didn't leave the classroom for lunch that day. And after that day he was never asked again to read his thoughts out loud. 

This day was no exception, when the hour had passed everyone left the classroom except him. He justs stood there until he was sure that no one was there and then gave his paper to the professor, the professor would read the paper and have a little conversation before he leaves for lunch. 

How do I know that? I watch him, for as long as I can remember I’ve been watching him. Keith Kogane, he was known for being a model student. Teachers liked him, they looked at him like they were his own son. Still he could get rebellious sometimes, but most of the time it was for a good cause.

I envy him more than anything in the whole world. He takes everything for granted, everything is so easy for him, students practically worship him. Every girl in this universe want to date him due his perfect looks, good character and still looked badass, but still he rejects them all without hesitation. All the guys on school wants to be his friend, but he rather sits alone in the corner than talking to someone.

Compared to him I’m worse than gum under a shoe.I've always felt like that when we were together. But that doesn't mean he has to know that. 

~~~

“And who are the chosen writers of today?” Pidge shouted in his ear when she returned from physics. It was a common question, the prof would always choose 3 poems that students had written. If you were one of them you had for sure an A+ on that assignment. Lance had been chosen a few times, still you could count all those times on one hand.He liked having his name on that wall unlike some people. People who were shy or didn’t want other students to know that is was theirs could write on their paper to not mention their name if they got picked.

Lance didn't get that part, why would you want to stay anonymous for something like that? If your name was on that wall, people recognise you, who wouldn't want that? Who wouldn't want to get noticed for once in their life? 

They got closer to the wall and began their search in the hope that lance made it to the top 3. His eye's grew wide when he began to read the familiar sentences that he had only dictated an hour ago. He made it, he let out a breath that he didn't know he had been holding. “I… I made it!”

“that would be the fourth time that you got picked.” Hunk joined the two. He hugged both of them, lance returning the hug by wrapping his arms around the bigger guy. Pidge on the other hand was trying to escape from the affection given to them.

“huuunk! Let” She was out of breath, “Can't breath!” immediately they broke the hug letting Pidge breath.

“You know that I’m in the armpit zone when you hug me like that!” She complained. She was indeed not one of the tallest persons on school, quite the opposite in fact. Whenever she and hunk hugged hunk would suffocate her by pressing her in the armpit area without knowing. Pidge even made a rule to prevent Hunk giving hugs after gym.

“Hunk! My buddy, my bro, the only one who believes in me!” Lance hugged him once again. “Excuse you?” Pidge asked.

“It is excuse me.” Lance corrected her, which delivers him an elbow against his ribs. “No, cause I’m not at fault. I’m always right and you know that.”

“She’s right lance!” hunk confirms, nodding his head slowly. There was no point to begin a fight about who was right, lance knew that Pidge was going to win. She always does, and if she doesn't? Then she will cheat.

“Fine!” Lance crossed his arms and poured. “ Can we now check the other poems who got chosen?” The three friends turned around facing the wall, scanning over the many poems from different classes.

“narrator please.” Pidge said. That was lance’s cue to start dictating the poems with an horrible accent. Never did anyone stop him from doing it, so it became a habit. 

“Alright, ahum.. This is a poem of Kizana, known as the girl that plays every lead role in the school plays. Here we go:”

“I wish I could take the colors from a rainbow and place them into your heart,  
So you would remember what beautiful feels like and know there is hope in the dark.”

“wonderful, true talent.” Lance pretended to wipe a tear away while Hunk and Pidge gave him a small applaus. Sure it was a well written, but they the assignment said that we should pick a colour. Not the whole freaking rainbow.

And he didn't like Kizana, she was a threat to Lance. There could only be one dramatic teenager and neither of them were about to give up on their title. 

“Now, the moment we all have been waiting for… our favorite anonymous writer.” announced Lance full excitement. This writer always made it to the wall. The handwriting was mesmerizing, It was so clean and they would always decorate the first letter of their poem like they do with fairy tales. Their signature to let people know that it was theirs.

“the person he loves is midnight,  
Like the blue of the sea cradled by the moonlight.

The person he loves is verdant,  
The very green of the hill kissed by the summer delight.

The person he loved is coral,  
As pink as the roses that grow in his mother's garden.

The person he loves is crimson,  
Red like the autumn leaves that lay abandonment.

The person he loves I can never be,  
Because he’s allergic to violets,  
And violets are too much like me.”

Lance sighed, another wonderful summoning of words from a person that he doesn't know. He wants to know them, he wants to know the person who could play with words like it was child's play.

Most of their poems had a dark turn, still every one of them were beautiful. He could relate to most of them.

Pidge already asked him if she should scan the handwriting, looking for some kind of match. He know that Pidge only wants to help him, but that was taking it a bit too far. It wasn't fair either. This person has been hiding his identity for the whole year, so it was obvious that they don't want to be recognized as the owner.

Why?

One way or another he was going to find out who was this anonymous person is. He wouldn't know what his next step would be, probably trying to be friends with them.

“Now that we’ve done that, ready to go home?” Pidge asked, crawling on hunk his back. Hunk let out a sigh and rolled his eyes, he couldn't deny that there was a bright smile creeping on his face. “Pidge, you have legs. You should use them.” Hunk advised her. 

“I have tiny legs and I’m tired.” There was no way she would walk by herself when she had two friends who could easily lift her. Pidge and hunk live in the same area so it wouldn't be such a problem to carry her back to her home.

Lance had to go the other direction. It didn't take that long to get home, but it felt like an eternity when walking alone. He could walk together with his slightly younger sister, but he doesn't want her to feel embarrassed because of him. She might be the female version of Lance but Camille was one of the populair girls. Lance was happy for her when she told him that she had a good reputation. Lance was friendly against everyone. But he acknowledged Hunk and Pidge as his only true friends.

And then you have Keith. He and Lance have a history together. You could say that Keith was his neighbour, his partner in crime and his first crush. They grew up together, but for some reason around the age 10 they stopped speaking to each other. At least Keith did, no matter what Lance tried Keith stopped playing outside, avoiding him when they were at school. Not long after Keith moved to a different neighbourhood without saying goodbye. Keith changed school, leaving Lance alone..

He met Hunk that year and immediately they were best friends. It still hurt that Keith left him without a warning or explanation. Hunk knew that and tried everything he could to make Lance forget about that. He knew that someone important left, he didn't have to know the name of this person. Hunk just wants Lance to move on.

When Lance chose for literature he didn't have the same classes as hunk anymore. They still talked during break or when they crossed each other in the hallway. 

That was how Pidge became their friend. Pidge and hunk had chosen the same subjects and started talking, afterwards hunk introduced Pidge to Lance. Despite their age difference and height, Pidge was on the same level as them.

Before they knew it the year was over and they had yet survived another year. Keith was forgotten, replaced by people that wouldn't leave him. He made peace with the thought that also Keith found someone more interesting than him. 

Sure, Keith was his first crush and made him realise he was bi due his young age. But if Keith only liked him for a little he wouldn't have left Him by himself. Lance tried to push his feelings away and became good at it, he had met new people and dated some of them for a short while.

He never saw it coming.

6 years later he saw him for the first time. Lance was in shock when violet eyes met his blue ones. A small smile that followed reminded lance why Keith of all the people he had met was his first crush. His hair was longer than he remembered, his black hair was pulled back into a small bun with a few strands of hair that framed his face perfectly. Puberty had hit him as a train, maybe a few. Keith had always been the pretty boy, but now it looked like that nickname wasn't nearly enough to describe him.

Both kept staring at each other for what felt like forever. Scared to blink and then noticing that it all had been a dream. Keith was back, he might have changed his looks a bit. But that was Keith, the boy that disappeared without looking back.

Lance wanted to run, cradle Keith in his arms. Something held him back. Rather someone was holding him back. A familiar weight climbed up his back.

“Hey? Dude, you okay?” Pidge asked when she sat comfortably. Lance cleared his troath and looked back at the place were Keith was standing. 

Gone.

Was it just a daydream? He thought he was over it. 

“Yeah, just tired.”

When he finally thought to be over him, he decided to come back, and the train of mixed emotions hitter Lance right in the face.

**Author's Note:**

> Yaaay! You made it till the end of the first chapter.
> 
> For the people who would like to know who wrote the poems here you go:  
> Lance's: actually by me, during one of my lessons.  
> Kizana's: Christy Ann Martine  
> Anonymous: Nikita Gill, I only changed it a little so it would fit the story.
> 
> Next chapter wil be memories in lance pov from 6 years ago.


End file.
